All the World's a Stage
by PhantomPenguin
Summary: Series of oneshots featuring Paton and Julia as the stars of multiple AUs. Runs the gamut from other fandoms to history to mythology to real life. Hold on tight, because it's going to be quite a ride. Chapter Four: Pokemon.
1. Harry Potter

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I probably don't own it.**

So! New Charlie Bone project! I love reading AU stories, so I've decided to go to town with a bunch of Paton/Julia AUs. These will ALL be oneshots, and will be set in a lovely assortment of fictional, historical, mythological, and real-life AU settings. I will not take requests (as in, "You _have _to do [insert fandom here], but suggestions are welcome and may or may not find themselves with a chapter of their own. Also, any oneshot that receives a particularly positive response may or may not get a spinoff fic...who knows!

So, for round number one: Harry Potter. This practically screamed to be written, and I could honestly go on for weeks with this one. Their story just begs to be written, and could very well merit a fic of its own.

As with all of my stuff, if you read it, favorite it, follow it, or even hate it, _please _review! It's the best way for me to know your thoughts and opinions! And, as always, enjoy!

* * *

He was the new History of Magic professor, she the cute seventh year Ravenclaw prefect.

It was only his first year teaching, but he had already earned the label of being one of those professors who could hold a class in thrall. Some said it was his dark features and intimidating height, while others insisted it was his soft, rich voice; it was a voice which could sweep through the class as if borne by a wind, warm and inviting students into the adventure of learning or just as easily cool and full of derision for their blatant stupidity.

It had only taken him a few weeks in the job to be labeled as odd, too. The students whispered about him as they strode from class to class throughout the day, swapping rumors of the limitless library he supposedly had in his office and the shady past he didn't _hide_, exactly, but never actually spoke about. The Yewbeams were an old family of the purist blood, and had numerous ties to these Death Eaters that were beginning to appear throughout the countryside. Gryffindors watched him distrustfully, Slytherins scorned him for shunning his heritage, Hufflepuffs didn't care one way or another; only the Ravenclaws offered him any modicum of acceptance.

Students and staff alike surmised he fell from similar stock as his strange family, this oddly reserved history professor whom they had taken on board the Hogwarts payroll. Many remembered him from his own Hogwarts days, that shy Gryffindor who "had his nose stuck in a book from day one and very seldom emerged hence." He refused to play Quidditch, raised an eyebrow at Care of Magical Creatures, and dismissed Divination as a frivolous fancy without ever setting foot in the classroom. In all other subjects, he excelled. Potions was a game, a competition with himself (and that surly Severus kid) to see how close to perfect his draught could be. He threw himself into Charms, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration quite enthusiastically, devouring the course content at a rapid pace and seeking out more advanced material on his own when he inevitably surpassed the textbooks. History was his passion, and the scholarly majority of his mind (that had almost prompted his placement into Ravenclaw) devoured text after text of obscure magical times. Defense garnered the most of his determination, and he used his studies there to erect an all but impermeable shield about himself; no one knew why, exactly, and he never consented to say.

Muggle Studies was the one class on his transcript that took people aback, for why would a pureblood wizard of his caliber even care to think about muggle technology and trends? But, learn he did, and quite curiously, too.

Other than his immediate family, no one was familiar with his home life. He came from a home of four sisters, all Slytherin, and a surprisingly Hufflepuff father. Grizelda, Lucretia, Eustacia, and Venetia were four names well remembered within Hogwarts's walls—with proud fondness by Slytherin house, and with abject horror by everyone else. His generation of Yewbeams had darkened the school's doors for a streak of nearly twenty consecutive years, and it was alleged that the three younger ones had…unusual abilities.

As a rule, Paton did his best to stay well out of his sisters' shadows, denying any association unless forced to acknowledge them, and skirting Venetia—the only one young enough to have her later Hogwarts years coincide with his earlier ones—in the hallways whenever possible. In fact, he quickly became intimately acquainted with the school's hidden passages and corridors, dancing away from her and her horrid flock of groupies whenever their paths threatened to cross.

He was an odd lad with few friends, preferring instead the company of the library and the silent (and not so silent) books it held.

Even now, as an adult in his own right and with nearly ten years of independent research and academia between him and his school years, he held the stigma of loner, burying himself amid the tomes held in the Hogwarts library and seldom interacting with his peers.

Julia Ingledew, for her part, was a good student—brilliant without being a prodigy, gifted without being odd. She was a Ravenclaw and muggleborn, her parents a stockbroker and amateur artist, and had a younger sister Nancy who, as a striking fifth year, was the talk of Gryffindor house.

Nothing ill was ever said of Julia throughout her Hogwarts tenure; she never got detention, she always met assignment dates, and her exemplary marks were only surpassed by the records established by a certain History of Magic professor. Julia found something to like about every subject, about every lesson: Arithmancy was a puzzle to be solved, Charms a demonstration in practical magics, Transfiguration and Potions and Defense all fascinating cogs in the machinations of daily wizarding life.

Every week, though, the class she most looked forward to was History of Magic.

Perhaps it was because of her Muggle heritage, but Julia loved magical history—history of all sorts, really, but magical in particular. Past events were lessons to be learned, messages prom one time to the next. The topic was a source of endless fascination from the moment she first opened _A History of Magic _and realized what a plethora of information the magical world had to offer.

From first year on, she was hooked, tracing magical lineages and talents throughout the ages, marking non-magical but "endowed" muggles, trying to forge connections and relationships between the magical and muggle worlds.

She had survived the tedium that defined her first six years of the course, essentially ignoring professor Binns and his goblin fixation and pursuing her own interests. But Professor Yewbeam—_he _was something else entirely. Stoic and reserved as she usually held herself, she could not repress the thrill of excitement that shot through her when he strode into the classroom that first day of term. Incredibly tall and dark-featured and brilliant, he was like no one she had ever met before-an intimidating enigma, and one who had an eerie resemblance to the vampires she had been reading about just the week before.

Then he had launched into the lesson, and all her first impressions had been swept aside and discarded in a rush of rapidly growing respect, fascination, and (she had to confess) attraction.

It was silly, she knew, to find him so appealing; he had to be at _least _ten or fifteen years her senior and a professor to boot, but the way he taught, the way he _spoke—_she had finally found a kindred spirit, someone who held history in the same esteem as she.

His sable eyes burned with passion as he lectured, his keen interest and burning curiosity evident as he spoke. It was as though the events he covered in class had happened mere days before rather than hundreds of years, his warm voice wrapping around the words in a sensuous manner, drawing the life from the leather-bound text and breathing it out into the room. None of this meant anything to Julia's classmates, of course. To them, History of Magic was just another NEWT to be taken, another class to sit through on their way to the "real world" beyond Hogwart's doors.

Julia sat through a few lessons on pins and needles, wanting to ask for more but terrified to actually take the step to make her wish reality. Finally, though, she could take it no longer. She mustered all of her courage, all of her resolve and fortitude and the bravery that she knew was hidden in the recesses of her being (the Sorting Hat had threatened quite convincingly to place her in Gryffindor), and approached him one day following class, setting her books aside on the desk directly before his as her classmates filed out of the room.

"Professor Yewbeam?" Her voice was soft and hesitant, and she shifted back and forth from foot to foot as she waited for him to acknowledge her.

His dark head was bowed over a book, nose nearly brushing the cracked pages as he scanned the worn words. Finally he looked up, rearing back like a startled horse as his brain filtered her words and registered that he was not alone as he had initially assumed.

"What?" Oh, Miss Ingledew!" He stuttered slightly, eyes sweeping up and down her body in a gaze that seemed to read the entirety of her being in a single pass. His hands fluttered absently in the air above his desk as though he couldn't quite decide where to place them. Eventually they grounded themselves on the desk, fingers twining together and stilling on the mahogany finish. "What can I do for you?"

Biting her lip—and inadvertently drawing his gaze—Julia reached a hand behind her neck in a gesture that made her seem quite a lot more uncertain than she usually appeared. "Well," she began, "I was wondering if you might be willing to tutor me…"

His brows drew together. "Tutor you? My dear girl, you have the highest marks in your year—for _every class_. What could I possibly teach you that you don't already know?"

Julia blushed at the praise. Such a simple complement from him shouldn't mean so much, but it did; it set her heart fluttering and blood rushing to her face. Still, she didn't lose sight of her objective. "You really have no idea, do you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "You…when you talk, you make the history _real_. It stops being just some words in a book and is transformed into reality—you bring it to life, in a way no other person seems to be able to do."

He watched her with an awestruck gaze. Listening to this young woman speak, he was swept up in a tide of emotions. Here was another person who loved knowledge, loved truth and books and fact and history, as much as he, who was expressing desire to step above and beyond the work already required of her in the simple drive for comprehension.

In this moment, Paton Yewbeam fully appreciated why he had become a professor—to find that gem of a student who shared his passions, to impress his legacy on to someone else. He also had to struggle to squash the appreciation that the person so interested in his subject was a beautiful, intelligent young woman who was also, currently, his student.

Academia first. He smiled a shy smile, teeth flashing white in the gradually-darkening classroom. "Miss Ingledew," he declared, "I'd be delighted."

There was no stopping them from then on out. The pair held research sessions whenever they could coordinate their free time, Julia filling her time in between classes, the occasional club meeting, homework, and general student life with extended trips to the library and Professor Yewbeam's study, while he struggled to reconcile teaching, grading, and supervising with his protégé's erratic schedule.

Many meetings saw them sitting together late into the night, hunched over tomes with text nearly too tiny to see, Professor Yewbeam translating forgotten tongues softly as Julia hastened to put them to paper. They never had any set pattern to their lessons, jumping from topic to topic as they struck their fancy. They spent weeks researching the origin of lycanthropy in South America, then turned the next day and immediately seized upon the subject of the Chrono Wars fought by a long-forgotten tribe of hedge witches from lower Wales.

They continued on in this manner for the months leading up to Julia's NEWTs, trading theories and exchanging volumes of obscure history in the way Julia's classmates swapped Chocolate Frog cards. The other professors noticed, of course, some lending a favorable opinion ("I think it's wonderful that young woman has finally pulled you out of your shell, Paton") and others sneering derisively ("Really, Yewbeam, history lessons? I sincerely doubt it"), but the headmaster turned a relatively blind eye (and a rather suggestive wink and a nudge) to the whole arrangement so that was that.

They became best friends, Julia telling Paton about her muggle family and well-loved younger sister, describing a childhood of standing out, of being the oddball standing on the wrong side of the fence and having to look on as the "normal" kids moved on without her. Paton revealed less about his past, but slowly Julia pried from him details of his horrible sisters, his mother's death, and his astonishingly Slytherin family. They learned each other's likes and dislikes, fears, dreams, and quirks.

She knew that he had over one hundred library cards (a neat mix of magical and muggle) and that his favorite color was a deep burgundy. He knew she had a strong affinity for classic muggle literature (_Jane Eyre_ and _The Fountainhead_ were her favorites) and always wore mismatched socks when she knew no one would be seeing them. He had a collection of medieval swords in his sitting room and exceptional taste in wine; she had an owl named Athena, hated pumpkin juice, and was scared of flying (broomsticks, that is; she'd flown on muggle planes multiple times with her parents, a fact which had Paton scratching his head and frowning in disagreement all at the same time).

On nights when she inevitable nodded off over a book in the library or his office, Julia would awaken with his cloak draped over her shoulders or a pillow under her head. When he let his guard down enough to doze in her presence, more often than not he would wake up to find her nestled into his side, having dropped off not long after him.

It was a strange relationship, one defined more by what it _wasn't _rather than what it actually was.

It was them, though, and they were happy.

All too soon, though, NEWTs came and they went, and Julia and her professor were faced with the unfortunate truth that constituted the end of term and Julia's final days as a Hogwarts student. Her last night in the school found her curled up on Paton's couch, a steaming mug of tea cradled in her hands as she faced the professor who had come to mean so much to her over the past year.

"I don't want to go," she confessed, staring down at the dark liquid between her palms. "Hogwarts has become my _home_, with its magical bearing and library and history and books."

Smiling gently, Paton reached fowrad and caught her hands in his, tracing his thumbs along her knuckles. "There is so much more out there for you to see and do, my dear," he chided. "You have so much to offer the world—your beauty and brilliance, your persistence and historical prowess. Far too much to keep locked away in this musty old castle."

"But I _love _Hogwarts," she protested, jerking her hands out of his and setting the mug down on table. "Where do I go after this, anyway? A job at the ministry?" She scoffed. "Hardly my cup of tea, if you'll pardon the pun" She looked down at the amber liquid before her. "Besides, where would my research be then, hmmm?"

He looked at her fro mover steepled fingers. "You could travel," he suggested. "See the world, research in different libraries, see what it is you want to see, learn what you want to learn. The world it your oyster, dear Julia—don't let it get away from you. Not now, when you have so much yet to learn."

Ever practical, Julia frowned, despite the appeal the suggestion held for her. "And where would I get the money for that?" she queried. "I'm not so young as to be naïve in the ways of the world. Travelling takes funding, and Mum and Dad have little enough as it is without my freelancing about the world."

This is where it got tricky. Paton bit his lip, hesitating. "I…you know I have a substantial fortune at my disposal…" he began, shooting her a sideways glance. "Inheritance from that odd aunt, you know." The words came out slowly, as though pulled from his lips. He didn't want to frighten her away with his offer, irrevocably wound her pride with his proposal.

"That is your money, Paton Yewbeam!" she protested hotly (the 'Professor' in his moniker had been discarded months ago at his insistence). "You will _not _waste it on the likes of me."

Even as she said the words she flushed, for the thought that he could care so much, that he would be _willing _to invest so heavily in her dreams and future…

"But what if I want to?" he persisted. "Julia, this past year with you…you have taught me so much, about history and human nature and the world itself. We are kindred spirits, you and I, caught up in a world that can never see things the way we do. You are a diamond in the rough, a gem among coals—you are everything bright and _good _within this world. I want you to have every opportunity available to you."

If Julia was blushing before, now she was beet red. "Professor," she stammered, flushing even darker when he frowned at the return to his professional title. "Paton," she stressed, "I cannot accept this. I…you…it's too much."

He sighed and passed a hand across his brow. "I thought you might say as much," he admitted, tracing an abstract symbol on the tabletop with one long, white finger. "What would you say if I were to, say, take a vacation, travel the world and do some heavy research of my own? I'd need a partner, someone who's proven that they could hold their own with me intellectually and emotionally, someone to stand by me and challenge me all at the same time." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "How does _that _sound, my dear Julia?"

It took her a moment to process the information, and when she did, her mouth curled into the makings of a smile. "That…might be acceptable," she admitted. Then she frowned and looked at him, forcing her to meet her gaze. "But…in what context would I be accompanying you?" she queried. "A student? A researcher? An aide?"

That gave Paton pause; he had not expected her to be so direct. "Well," he fudged, "I hoped 'friend' would feature a lot more prominently, as well as…"

"As well as?" she asked pointedly. She was having no more of this dancing around like a nervous horse. They'd been doing that for months and the time for that had long since passed.

He gave a light cough and looked away as if embarrassed. "Well, Julia, you have to know I—that is, I mean to say…I've become very fond of you, and…" His normally pale face was streaked bright pink as he choked on the words, floundering around worse than a fish stranded out of water.

A bright smile spreading across her face, Julia finally took pity on him. "Yes," she said, placing a finger on his lips before he dug himself even deeper into his hole. "I will come with you. And," she leaned forward, honeyed eyes gleaming, lacing their fingers together and bringing her mouth to hover just in front of his, "I love you too, you silly man."

He blushed and stuttered and flexed his fingers beneath hers, but he never denied it, and as he finally (_finally_) closed the distance between them, his lips responded and his hands rose to wrap around the back of her neck and cup her chin in a manner that left no room for argument. Yes, they would make a very good pair indeed.


	2. Percy Jackson

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

So, it's been a while...I have no excuses, but at least I'm updating! For this chapter, a little Percy Jackson blurb. This is one I could run with for multiple chapters, so we'll see what the reviews say.

As usual, read, enjoy, and please review. Your comments are excellent motivation!

* * *

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The sharply-worded question cut through the otherwise stagnant air, the words curling about the tall young man like a whip and halting him in his tracks as he attempted to creep by unnoticed.

"Um…" His vocabulary failed him as his mind stalled. Peering about the gloomy wood, he searched for his interrogator as he groped for an answer to her questions.

"Well?"

If he could see the source of the disembodied voice, he was all but certain that she (_he thought it was a woman, at least_) would be tapping her foot and leveling him with an impatient glare. Dark eyes passed over the nearby scattering of trees, narrowing in triumph as they focused on a feminine form lurking behind a majestic old oak. "If you come out I'll answer you," he called. He glanced down at the naked blade in his hand and hurriedly sheathed it; he wasn't certain what the Mist disguised his sword as, but he was certain that whatever it was wouldn't be all too inviting to the unwary mortal.

Hesitantly, the blurred body moved through the haze, solidifying into the form of a woman just a few years younger than he. "Who _are _you?" she repeated, looking at him through narrowed eyes, her searching gaze piercing him like a Spartan spear. "And what is _that_?!" She jerked her head toward his sword, gaping at the weapon with unabashed awe.

Not knowing what it was she was being shown, Paton shrugged. "What does it look like?" he asked.

"It looks like a broadsword," she said, approaching him as one would approach a skittish animal. Quirking an eyebrow, she swept an appraising look up and down his frame. "Why are you wearing Greek armour?"

"How do you know it's Greek?" The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider the potential ramifications of the assertion. She should not have been able to see through the Mist in the first place, and he should not have confirmed her observation once he knew she could.

Raising her eyebrows, the woman gave his ensemble an appraising glance. "I would be a poor excuse of a history student if I couldn't recognize a solid set of Greek armour and weaponry," she said mildly.

"…but you're a mortal!" Paton blurted, blushing furiously as she turned that blazing look on him once more.

"As opposed to…?" The question hung at the end of her sentence, dangling between them like a particularly large worm on a hook.

"Erm…" Paton floundered, trying to determine the best course of action. Open mouth, insert foot; that was him in a nutshell. "Well, a demi-god," he finally said, giving a defeated mental shrug and desperately hoping this wouldn't backfire on him.

Her eyebrows shot skyward. "Oh, come off it!" she exclaimed. "You really expect me to believe that?" When his expression didn't change, her incredulous glare slid slowly to a thoughtful frown. "You're serious," she stated, giving him a look that managed to be even more probing than any previous.

Mutely, he nodded. This was not a turn his quest should have taken; he had planned to be in and out of this little town, slaying the beast and so on and then returning to camp immediately after. But, _no, _he had decided to take a detour instead (_but really, the allure of ten thousand year old ruins were far too tempting for his history-infatuated mind to resist_), and now look where he was—stuck in a foggy forest with a quizzical, infuriating, rather attractive (_not that he was looking, of course) _woman who it just so happened was clear-sighted enough to see through the Mist.

Biting her lip in thought, she peered at him for a long moment, as if debating the authenticity of his claim. "I may be completely mad," she finally said, "but I believe you. It certainly explains the bizarre things I've seen over the years."

His interest was piqued. "What sort of things?"

She laughed, and it was the most glorious sound in the world. "Certainly stranger things than you," she teased, smiling. "There was a chimera at the zoo one day—I say was, because some gentleman appeared not long after and slayed it or whatnot—and I did see a trireme sail by one day at the harbor, and various sorts of artifacts and impossible things over the years." She pursed her lips and tilted her head. "I always assumed there was something more than humans, but…" Something clicked into place for her and she jerked with the force of the thought. "Hang on; you said you're a _demi -_god, yes? So does that mean…" She trailed off, overwhelmed.

"That the gods themselves are real?" Paton finished her sentence, resigned to this mess he had gotten himself into. "Yes. As are the myths and creatures and heroes."

"Fascinating." Words failed Julia for once, and she suddenly felt defenseless, felt raw and revealed to this young man who was so much _more_, who was part of a world that had fascinated her since childhood and had lived adventures the likes of which she could never conceive. Eventually curiosity overcame her stupefaction, and she ventured a step or two nearer. "Are there many of you?"

Paton's teeth flashed in a grin, taking years of premature worry from his face. The few moments he had spent in Julia's company left him with no doubt that she would flood him with questions once she overcame her initial timidity—and she certainly did not disappoint. "Oh, enough," he said vaguely, waving a hand in the air. "Any time one of the gods has a fling with a human, we're the result."

Julia shook her head. "It's just too much," she murmured. "A whole other world, existing on the fringe of this one, simultaneously there but not." Suddenly she blinked and blushed, looking abashed. "It just occurred to me that I haven't introduced myself," she said, properly embarrassed that her sense of propriety and etiquette had simply waltzed away. "Julia Ingledew, double major in ancient history and anthropology."

Paton chuckled, for their lack of an introduction had just occurred to him as well. "Paton Yewbeam," he replied, extending his hands and taking one of hers in his warm grip. "Son of Athena." Laughing again at her incredulous stare, he released her hand and raised an awkward hand to the back of his neck, looking again like the lost young man that he was. "Of course, there are some strange characters on my dad's side of the family as well, so I have a bit more 'weirdness' in me than most, so to speak."

"Athena's your mother?" Julia asked. "Truly?"

"Truly."

"Goddess of wisdom and war, and…you're wandering around the outskirts of town dressed like someone in the midst of a reenactment of the Iliad."

Back straightening into a defensive posture, Paton glared at her. "Well, you aren't supposed to be able to see that!" he retorted. "There's this thing called the Mist, keeps most mortals from noticing anything going on, but _apparently _you can see through it."

"Huh. Useful talent, that," Julia remarked, looking pensive.

"_Dangerous,_" Paton stressed, stepping toward her. "If you can see us, then we take notice of you—and there are far more beings who want to harm you than help you in our world."

He was deadly serious now, and Julia flinched at the certainty laced into his words. "I've done well enough so far," she demurred.

Shaking his head, he gripped one of her shoulders and peered down into her face (_how had it taken her this long to notice how tall he was?)_. "Before now you haven't spoken to one of us, haven't made your observations known. Now…" he trailed off, worry easing its way across his chiseled features.

"I think I'll be fine, thank you," she announced, shrugging out of his grasp and meeting his sable gaze defiantly. "I'm not some damsel in distress, you know." Bravado shone in her honeyed eyes, and the sun chose that moment to send a lone tendril of golden light coiling down through the forest canopy to cut through the gloom and bathe her in a radiant glow.

Paton thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, you most certainly are not," he agreed, smiling. "But, even the strongest individual can meet their match if they aren't careful." He looked so despairingly wounded as he spoke that Julia sensed there was a story behind his words, a raw, red loss lurking in his background that constantly chafed at him. Stooping, he took both of her shoulders in a gentle grip and met her eyes in a fierce glance. "Promise me you'll be careful, Julia," he said. "Promise me if you see anything, any_one _that doesn't belong in your happy human reality that you'll just turn the other way, that you'll let it pass unnoticed. There is enough blood on my hands as it is; I don't want to add yours to it."

Julia trembled as he spoke, both from his proximity as well as from his actual words. Her day had started so _simply_—just a solo expedition to investigate the local ruins—so how had she ended up here, questions that had been haunting her for years finally answered and a young man with old eyes telling her to ignore every trace of her gift (_and it was a gift, this sight, because the things she _saw,_ they were marvelous and impossible and everything she dreamed about). _"How can I walk away from this?" she asked, risking a glance into his fathomless eyes (_look too long and she would fall, she knew she would, spiraling downward into the limitless cosmos of his gaze, never to return). _"I've spent twenty years of my life wondering if I was a freak, terrified that I was seeing things that didn't exist and unwilling to let go of them because they showed me everything that has ever fascinated me. Now you show up here and I learn it's all _real_, it's all _true, _and you expect me to just let it all go." She shook her head. "I can't do it. Dangerous or no, this is a part of me."

Looking down at her, chestnut hair cascading around her face, eyes bright with passion and defiance and so many more things he didn't want to let himself think about, Paton felt the stirrings of frustration emerge. She was dead set on this course, but she didn't _know, _could not possibly comprehend the danger she was in. "Julia," he said, "it's not just about the monsters and artifacts and such; there are so many enemies of the gods, so many foes of Olympus, and to have someone with your power in their grasp…that would be bad." Studying her face as he was, he saw her body tense and her eyes widen as she jerked upright in his grasp.

"Paton, duck!" she commanded.

Trained as he was for combat, he obeyed without thinking, his body obeying the tone of her voice long before his mind had a chance to catch up.

Moving like lightning, Julia grasped the hilt of his sword and tugged it from its scabbard, jerking it loose and lunging forward to stab the monstrous spider that had descended from the forest canopy, suspended behind Paton on a long, luminescent strand of silk. The blade slid through the beast's head like a knife through butter, penetrating straight through to the brain and puncturing several great eyes along the way. With a heaving shudder, the arachnid fell from its sinuous web and thudded to the ground, a trickle of gore oozing from the wound.

"Juila—what?" Paton jumped to his feet, pivoting to gape at the spider. His frantic gaze jumped between the twitching monster and the woman beside him, catching up with this rapid turn of events.

"What _was _that thing?" she gasped, turning away from the mutilated corpse with an ill-concealed shudder. She wasn't a fan of spiders even on a good day, and mythological spiders with eyes as large as baseballs were a bit beyond her realm of enjoyment.

"Giant arachnid," Paton said distractedly, sliding his sword from the body and eyeing the accumulated juices with distaste. He slid the blade back into its sheath with a quiet 'snick', and they both watched in silence as the massive hairy form faded away.

"Is it gone for good?" Julia asked, knowing the answer even as she spoke.

He shook his head. "Only temporary, I'm afraid." He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair. "You saved my life," he murmured.

"I…I suppose I did," Julia stammered, a blush tinting her cheeks. Opening her mouth to speak, Julia gasped as another tendril of web ballooned out from behind a nearby tree, festooning itself to her body and pinning her arms to her sides. "Paton!" she gasped, eyes growing wide with alarm. That was all she managed to get out before another strand of sickly green silk wrapped around her mouth, only just loose enough to allow some oxygen to pass through her nose.

Paton's eyes darkened and narrowed, his expression thunderous and laced with ill-suppressed fury. "Let her go," he commanded.

"Or what, son of Athena?" An oily voice issued from behind the tree, wafting on the wind to dance in the air around him. "You'll kiiiiill me?" The beast let out a grating laugh and moved from its hiding place in a whirl of legs, heaving its bulk out into the clearing. "One move from you, _hero, _and the woman dies."

Paton grimaced, hand flexing toward his sword. He took half a step forward, jerking to a halt as the hideous being raised a hideous claw and lightly tapped the side of Julia's face.

"Nuh-uh," it taunted, clicking its pincers maliciously as Julia winced at the touch. "Better watch your step!"

"What do you want me to do?" Paton asked numbly, ignoring Julia's glare that explicitly told him to forget about her and kill the monster already.

The spider cackled. "Step over here," it cooed. "My mother will be delighted to have one of Athena's most treasured sons in her possession."

"Of course," Paton spat, using the spider's distraction to shift a few feet closer to Julia. "Arachne." He saw Julia's eyes widen with comprehension (_and he nodded because of course she would understand the reference) _and in one fluid movement whipped out his sword and decapitated the spider. Its body disappeared before the head even hit the ground. Instantly, Paton was beside her, carefully sliding his blade through the thick webbing and freeing Julia from its constricting clutches.

She gasped as she was freed, inhaling a great gulp of air and staggering (_and maybe her lack of balance was slightly exaggerated_) back into Paton's chest. His arms wrapped snugly about her waist, securing her to him as she regained her footing.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his mouth right beside her ear.

Julia shivered (_and it had nothing to do with her near-death experience)_ and nodded, smoothing shaking hands down her front and slowly extracting herself from his grasp. "You saved me," she murmured, echoing his earlier statement.

Paton moved about the clearing, inspecting it for any remaining arachnids. Determining that the danger had passed, he slid his sword into its sheath and turned to Julia with a bashful smile. "If I remember correctly, I'm simply returning the favor."

Julia blushed. "Yes, well…"

All too soon, the moment slipped away to be eclipsed once more by reality. "So, it seems you're a wanted man," Julia prompted, brushing ineffectively at the tendrils of web still clinging to her clothes.

Paton frowned. "So it would seem," he muttered. "My mother has many enemies, and I have many of my own as well. When they have common interests, well…" His mouth tightened. "And now they know about you."

The thought had occurred to Julia as well, but she refused to let him see how it worried her, hiding her fear behind a smile. "It will be alright," she said, reaching up to smooth his dark hair out of his face. Suddenly her mind caught up with her movements, and she blushed and dropped her hand, stepping back from the too-intimate moment.

He caught her hand as it fell, running his thumb over her palm in a soothing caress, the smooth movement belying the worry that danced in his eyes. "No, it won't," he said. "You are in danger now, Julia, and that can't be helped."

Biting her lip, Julia looked up at him. "What do I do?" she asked. "Paton, I'm afraid."

He inhaled, mind turning over multiple scenarios, until finally, "Come with me," he said. "I can get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can be protected from harm (_and somewhere I can see you, _his traitorousmind added)."

Julia met his determined gaze with wide eyes, weighing his words. "Walk away from my life?" she asked. "Just like that?"

He met her eyes sadly. "If you want to keep that life," he said.

"Will you be there?" she asked, suddenly sounding young and afraid. "Where we're going?"

Paton gave a gentle nod. "Yes. It's my home—the only place I've ever been able to call home, anyway. It's where I live when I'm not on a quest."

"Where is it?" Her eyes were bright, filled with apprehension and nervousness and a latent curiosity that she could never completely quash, as well as with a rapidly expanding trust in this strange alluring man who had just waltzed into her life.

Grasping her hand in his, Paton smiled. "It's called Camp Half Blood."


	3. Doctor Who

**Disclaimer: None of it is mine (but damn would I love to own the Doctor ;D)**

So, as I've been obsessed with Doctor Who (and likely will be for the rest of my life), that's where I went with this AU. For any readers who haven't watched David Tennant as the Tenth Doctor, I'm disowning you. No, in all seriousness, I borrowed the story arc of this from the episodes Human Nature/Family of Blood, so if you haven't watched those basically you just need to know that the Doctor can turn himself human if he has to and store his Time Lord consciousness in a watch. If you aren't a Whovian...I apologize. Not really; I actually just hope I'll convert you.

* * *

"Paton, I'm frightened." Julia stood at his shoulder, body tense and alert, ears tuned to any unnatural noise from outside. "What's going on? Why are they chasing you? Who is this 'Doctor'?"

Beside her, Paton was a silent statue, his expression lost in the growing twilight streaming through the window of the small shed. "I..I don't know," he replied, frustrated. Absently, he turned the ornate pocket he cradled over in his hands, tracing the looping circular symbols with a finger that shook. "I hear…voices, almost, coming from this watch. They're calling to me, telling me something…"

Julia's brow furrowed. "What? But that's…"

"Impossible? Yes, I know." Without warning, Paton groaned and doubled over, clutching his head. "It hurts," he moaned, "so very much."

Throwing her arms around his shoulders, Julia cradled his head to her chest. "What hurts?" she asked, frantically checking his racing heartbeat. "What's the matter?"

"There are thoughts and memories coming through," he grit out, "eons worth of someone who is me—but _isn't."_

"Doctor!" The cruel voice cut through the sound of Paton's pained gasps. "We know you're in there. Surrender yourself or give us the watch—either way, know that you and your girlfriend will die."

Julia gave a choked sob. "Who _are _these people?" She hugged herself about the waist, sending a furtive glance out the window of the shed in which they sheltered. The night had been one of multiple horrors, prefaced by the arrival of this Family—or so they called themselves—and their untoward acts of violence. "We live in a tiny city where nothing happens, I'm a librarianand you're a _history professor_—why are they after us?"

A fresh wave of pain assaulted Paton as more thoughts assailed his mind, and he moaned. "Not after you because of _you,_" he mumbled, nearly indecipherable in his agony, "after you because of _me—_but not me."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

He shook his head. "Not on earth, either." Forcing himself to stand and shaking violently with the effort it cost him, he looked into her eyes, meeting her terrified gaze with his darkened one. "It's the watch, my dear; it is—I am—something _more_, something not from here."

Something unfamiliar gleamed in his eyes—a touch of eternity, of times long past and times that had yet to come, all bottled within a single being and churning with the fires of the universe. Julia stifled a gasp, for whoever was leveling that look at her was not Paton; oh, Paton was _there_, but he was only a small part of a much larger whole.

"What—"

"Time Lord!" The party standing just on the other side of the thin wooden door answered her inadvertent query. "Surrender yourself or you both will rue the day you ever crossed our Family."

Fear gripped Julia in its iron grip. "Paton," she cried, "what can we do? They killed—oh, gods, they killed the dean and half of Sam's biology class." Trembling violently, she buried her head in his chest, tears streaming silently down her face. "I don't want to die!"

Paton, too, shook with terror, though his had a far different source. "Nor do I, but I think I can save us," he said quietly, looking down at the small silver timepiece clutched in his hands.

"But?" Julia asked, sensing a catch. She hadn't been best friends and half in love with this man for over half a year without becoming well acquainted with his mannerisms and personality.

"But I'll lose myself," he whispered, looking at her with dread-filled eyes. "There's a consciousness imprisoned in this watch—a being of whom I am but a part. If I open it, I'll be able to save us, but Paton Yewbeam as you know him will cease to exist; I'll become this _Doctor_ person."

Tears welled in Julia's soft brown eyes. "Oh, Paton," she murmured, reaching up to trace the sharp contours of his face.

He caught her hand in his and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I have to do it, my dear," he said, black eyes earnest and determined. "If I have even the slightest chance of saving you…" His voice faltered as that consciousness, so foreign and forceful and _so very familiar _sent another tendril of _everything _curling toward him. "But…I'll be different; I'll still be _me, _but I'll be more."

"How—"

Combing a gentle hand through her hair, he cradled her head to his chest. "Paton Yewbeam is human; the Doctor is not." Silencing her questions with a shake of his head, he continued on, "He—_I—_am a Time Lord, an alien; this Family" (he uttered the words with such disgust and loathing that Julia could almost believe he was a different man) "was pursuing me—_him—_and I locked his—_my—_consciousness away, foolishly believing it to be the safest route. I—_he—_became human so they couldn't find me."

Choking on suppressed sobs, Paton covered his face with one trembling hand. "But, I—he—_I _didn't expect to fall in love; Time Lords usually don't. If—when I change…"

"You won't feel the same," Julia finished in a nearly silent whisper. "It will all just be a memory; you'll be a different man." She gave a choked, bitter laugh. "It figures the first time you own up to your feelings would also be the last."

He gave her a tormented look. "I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I have to keep you safe, and this is the only way…"

She parted her lips, though to say what she wasn't sure.

Paton didn't allow her the chance to vocalize anything, halting the progress of her words with the presence of his lips, brushing his mouth ever so softly over hers.

"Whatever happens," he whispered, breath tickling her ear, "whatever I become, _this was real."_

He drew back and, with one determined glare at the window, twisted the knob on the watch, releasing the consciousness contained within.

Julia shrank back against the wall, the hair on the back of her neck rising as she sensed the entity emerging from its confinement.

It poured into Paton, filling him to the brim and spilling over; he overflowed with auric light and song, eyes glowing molten gold. As human gave way to Time Lord, Paton screamed, an agonized wail that ripped through the silence that had fallen on the grounds, tearing through the very fabric of time and space as Gallifreyan overcame human.

Tears coursed swiftly down Julia's face as she was forced to watch Paton's agony, terror and love and heartbreak carving a silent stream along her cheeks.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, his hoarse yells subsided until they were but raspy breaths. Paton—the Doctor—stood bend at the waist, bracing himself with one hand against the wall as he gathered the wits and strength to stand.

"Pa—Doctor?" Julia caught herself with a grimace, reaching a hand out to his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He looked at her with a gaze so black that Julia could swear she saw stars. It was a pair of eyes she had met countless times before—yet one she didn't know at all. "Right as rain!" he replied, voice deadly quiet, attention wholly tuned to the threat outside. "Now, I believe I have an alien menace to take care of."

How long Julia stood in the shed after he departed she didn't know, her thoughts chasing each other round and round in circles through her head, her emotions in turmoil as she thought and didn't think about the events of the past day. Finally, a loud noise shook her from her reverie, and she all but jumped out of her skin as an honest to goodness police box materialized in the space before her.

"What?"

"Time Lord," the Doctor said, stepping smoothly from the door. "I can travel through time and space using this-my TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

Julia gaped, thought of about one thousand different questions she wanted to ask, then swallowed them all as a fresh wave of misery swamped her. "Was he even real?" Her words were daggers, tearing through the Doctor's outer impassive façade like it didn't exist at all.

"Was who real?" he asked, knowing well the response but unwilling to voice the words himself.

"Paton Yewbeam," she replied, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes and restrained only through sheer strength of will. "The man I fell in love with. The man who taught here at this university for over a year, human as can be, sharp as a blade and kinder, more genuine than anyone I've yet to meet. The man who looks like you, but _isn't _you. The man whom I fell in love with—and who fell in love with _me." _Her honeyed eyes glinted with suppressed emotions and accusations as reality assaulted her and incited a barrage of confusion, a year's worth of memories raging within her mind.

He was Paton, this man, this _alien—_yet also not, the mind of her love now but a miniscule, now likely-submerged part of the infinite, awakened alien consciousness that had been slumbering deep within him. Sable eyes mirrored and unreadable—an expression that had seldom appeared on her Paton's face—the Doctor met her ferocious, terrified gaze with an unreadable frown.

To her surprise, though, Julia found that she could unlock that seemingly inscrutable face. Paton had often tried to hide himself away; it seemed that was a trait that had carried over from his alien counterpart. Guilt lived there, etched into flesh by years and years of life and experience and love and loss—a guilt so profound that it served as the base for all other emotions, for the agony and regret and fury and terrible sadness and joy that all lived on that face she knew so well and yet did not know at all.

"He _is _real," the Doctor finally said, stressing the tense. "He is me, me without all of my layers, without all of the burdens and knowledge of a Time Lord—me as a human, which of course is what he _is."_

Giving a strangled laugh, Julia stepped up to him and laid her hands over his chest, a motion oft repeated on Paton but one that felt so much more _intimate _now. Even knowing that this new man possessed two hearts, that he was _alien_, she was startled and slightly awed by the gentle dual thuds beneath her palms.

"It sounds like something out of a book," she murmured, avoiding his eyes and looking down instead at where her hands rested on his chest. "Aliens, time travel, biological conversion…" Honeyed eyes sharpened and turned back to his face. "You saved my life." The words came out like an accusation. "You chose to change back because those other aliens threatened _me. _Why?"

The words were a whip, licking through the air between them to lash against him, a tongue of pain and regret lacing up through his veins. "Because he loved you," he said, taking her hands in his, grasping them tightly, holding her captive with body and words.

"But not you," Julia struggled to extricate herself from his hold and turn away, not bothering to hid the bitterness and heartbreak she currently felt. "I would go and fall in love with a man who doesn't even exist," she choked, casting her eyes down in shame as tears began coursing unbidden down her face, carving long tracks down her fine cheekbones.

Ever so gently, the Doctor reached up and wiped them away, fingers lingering against her skin.

"He _is _me," he reiterated. "Every part of Paton Yewbeam exists within me—his thoughts, his actions, his characteristics, his feelings. I'm simply…more."

Snorting despite herself, Julia reached a shaky hand up to scrub at the tear tracks still gleaming on her face. "And that would be the understatement of the century." Momentarily forgetting herself, she leaned against him, resting her cheek against his chest, listening to his dual heartbeats pound beneath her ear—a very real reminder of his alien nature. "What will you do now?" she asked.

"Oh, you know," he said, assuming a flippant tone, "Back to the stars with me; so many galaxies still out there!" The shadows in his eyes told a different story, though—one of sadness and too much time spent alone.

"All by yourself?" She already knew the answer to this question, of course. He had been alone when he arrived here a few months ago, human and with an apparently falsified background, and he would be alone when he left, alien and ancient.

The Doctor hesitated. "Well…" He drew the word out, shifting his weight slightly between his feet. "I don't have to be." He peered over at her from between his shaggy black bangs. "You could come, if you like."

"What, travel with you?" Julia shook her head. "No, I couldn't—can't." She bit her lip. "I have my job, my sister, my _life _here…I can't just waltz away from all that."

A frown creased the Doctor's brow. "You told Paton that you felt trapped here, that you always sensed there was something else waiting out there for you. What if this is _it_?"

The hope and sheer loneliness burning in his eyes made Julia's pulse shudder; he needed someone, needed _her. _"You must get lonely," she murmured, her hand unconsciously rising to trace the contours of his cheek.

Eyes closing at the tentative touch, he nodded. "900 plus years will do that," he said softly. They stood like that for a long moment, Julia's fingers just barely tracing his jaw, the Doctor standing tall and straight and still, both lost within the realm of thought.

"But the world—the _universe—_waits," he announced, eyes flying open and flashing in excitement. "Entire _galaxies _yet to be explored, planets teeming with adventure—we could see it all." He waggled his eyebrows at Julia. "What do you think?"

It sounded marvelous to Julia, but she was cautious by nature and seldom leapt headlong into anything—and whatever he said, she barely knew the individual standing before her. "I don't know…" she hedged, face a maze of indecision.

The abject hope on his face nearly made her concede right then and there. "Whatever you and Paton had," the Doctor averred, "whatever he was and whatever he did, _he was me. _Nothing existed in him that does not already exist in me. I'm not the same man—but I am." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Confusing, that."

"Confusing does _not _begin to cover it." Julia sighed and drew a hand through her hair. There was no denying that this was the opportunity of a lifetime, travelling the universe in the company of an undeniably attractive alien who may or may not reciprocate the perplexing attraction she still held for him despite his duplicity. But, there was also her life, her career and family and everything she had ever worked for and dreamed of—all _here, _on Earth.

The Doctor could sense her indecision, saw the war waging in her mind playing out upon her face. He knew her hopes and dreams, had spent long hours as Paton discussing life and love and longing with the intriguing woman before him. She was still young, even by human standards, and aspired to eventually own her own bookshop—a proper one, with leather bound tomes and first edition rarities—rather than mind the library of an antiquated local university. Right now she did what she had to do, accruing tenure and squirreling away bits and pieces of her paycheck for books and that hazy _someday _when she could afford to buy a building of her own.

Paton had known all of this, had shared her dream and longed to help it to its fruition, living with her in the apartment above the shop and changing the front display and decorating for holidays and doing _domestic—_his heart gave a pang, because even now, as the Doctor, a part of him _still _wanted that.

It was simply a part he had to force himself to ignore—a task that required more effort than it should, and one at which he more often than not failed.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked at her with eyes glinting with suppressed humor. "Did I mention it also travels through time?"

A brilliant slowly grew on Julia's face, spreading to illuminate her entire countenance as she turned first left, then right to take in the gloomy camps behind her. Without uttering a word, she placed her hand in his and squeezed his fingers. "Well?" she asked. "What are we waiting for?"

His answering smile was the only reply she needed, and they stepped together into the TARDIS, the universe at their feet.


	4. Pokemon

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

Good night, this is a long one! I got a bit carried away, methinks. Ah, well, it's all in good fun! I would like to put out a little request, though...if you're keeping up with this and enjoying it, would you leave a review? I feel like these fics aren't getting that many hits lately, and while I will keep updating (don't worry, guys) I would like an idea of who actually does read my newer chapters. Okay, on with the show!

* * *

Lightning crackled, sharp bolts of white-hot electricity frying the very air; across the arena, the defeated Persian sank to the floor with an agonized howl, the fight slipping out of it in an instant and its eyes slipping shut.

"No!" Its trainer flew to its side, stroking the fallen feline's flanks with fingers that shook. "Persian!"

Paton shook his head. "Jolteon, return," he called tiredly, drawing the foxlike Pokémon back to him in a red streak. Passing a hand through his shaggy black hair, he crossed the arena to where his challenger knelt in defeat. "You battled well," he complemented.

"Not well enough," the young man said ruefully, withdrawing his Pokémon and tucking the Pokeball away. "Your gym is the fiercest in the region for a reason, Mr. Yewbeam."

Paton shrugged one shoulder at the praise, his posture indicating how little this status meant to him. "So they say," he remarked mildly. "Shall I see you out?"

"Nah, I've got it," the youth waved the offer aside, pushing himself to his feet. "I have to get to a Pokémon Center as soon as possible, anyway."

Paton made a noise of assent, thoughts already on a different plane, and drifted away. He gave the young man a cursory final nod and then swept from the arena into the inner workings of the gym, discarding his trademark black trench coat on a waiting rack as he passed through the heavy door.

Combined with his dark hair and eyes, the long coat and his traditional black shirt and pants painted him an intimidating figure and offset the electric yellow coats of the majority of his Pokémon team. "Paton Yewbeam and his team of enigmatic electrics," he muttered, fingering the Pokeballs belted at his waist. "Bane of trainers everywhere." He dropped back into an armchair, kicking his feet up on an ottoman. "Not as scintillating as it sounds."

"Well, you _do _have _other _options."

Paton was on his feet in the blink of an eye, Pokeball in hand and his Electabuzz before him in an instant.

His sister held up a placating hand. "_Such _a welcome, brother dear," Venetia mocked, lips twitching as she eyed the bristling Pokémon and her brother's aggressive stance. She stood in the door way, clad in in the black, R-emblazoned outfit of a Team Rocket executive, her posture indicating absolute superiority and an obvious lack of worry.

"Venetia," he replied, posture not changing in the slightest, "To what do I owe the inconvenience?"

Pursing her lips, she gave him a long stare. "Just…dropping by," she demurred.

Static crackled around Electabuzz's fists as the Pokémon growled; Paton bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile as he saw her recoil and then try to hide it. "You never 'just' anything," he countered. "Drop the act."

All pretenses of niceties faded from her face. "Very well," she snarled. "I am looking for your nephew."

"Charlie? He's your nephew as much as mine." Paton tried not to let the worry he felt at her words show on his face. The boy was a beginning trainer, and though he held lofty goals and a dedicated team of partners, he was still a rookie and had _quite _a penchant for getting in trouble; Paton did his best to watch out for his nephew whenever he had the chance.

Venetia's eyes narrowed. "Don't stall me with schematics, Paton," she hissed. "More often than not _this _is where he flees when he's been meddling in the affairs of his betters; he _must _be held accountable for his actions."

"I haven't seen him in over three weeks," Paton replied coolly, "and even if I _had_ I wouldn't be likely to tell _you_. I do try to _hinder _Team Rocket rather than help them, you'll remember."

"And as ever you remain the fool," she snarled. "Very well, I take my leave." She slowly withdrew from the room, pausing to give him one final glare. "But you, Paton," she threw over her shoulder, eyes narrowed, "you need to be aware of your enemies—and beware of them as well."

"Oh, I _am_," he whispered, voice carrying through the other-wise silent room. "Believe me."

Venetia bared her teeth and departed.

Scowling, Paton waited until he heard the click of the outer doors, then spun on his heel and gave the room an appraising look. "Charlie," he said, resignation tinting his words, "You can come out now."

The wavy black drapes in the corner rustled and then shifted to allow a small slip of a boy to squeeze through. "How'd you know I was here?" he complained, running a hand through his already messy hair.

Paton raised an eyebrow. "Because Team Rocket is much more well-informed than I and if they had a reason to suspect your being here than you likely were."

A growl from Electabuzz had Paton jumping to attention once more. "What is it?" he asked. Crackling with ill-suppressed electricity, the Pokémon looked toward Charlie's corner of the room. Paton frowned, and then narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You can come out now as well," he said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible.

The second, previously unnoticed lump in the curtains shifted and then bulged outward as the other party detached itself from the wall, the slight girl with light skin and hair drawing slowly out of her refuge.

"Hello," Paton said gently. "And who are you?"

"Uncle P, this is Emma!" Charlie said, adopting what Paton had come to refer to as his nephew's 'please adopt this seemingly hopeless case I've taken on' look. "Team Rocket kidnapped her aunt and stole her Pokémon!"

Paton frowned. "Her aunt's Pokémon or her own?" he asked, only partly interested in the answer as he turned over this new, very open act by his sisters' organization.

"Both!" Charlie exclaimed. "She managed to get away with her Pidgey, but they got all the others."

Emma let out a soft little sob, and Paton felt his harsh demeanor slipping. No matter how irritated he became with his sisters' nefarious plots, he could not allow his aggravation to carry over to the ones they affected—that, and he could never stand to see a woman upset. Kneeling before the girl, he took her hands in his and gave them a soothing squeeze. "Calm down, dear girl," he soothed, keeping his voice soft and level. The position put him half a head above her still, so he angled his face so that his eyes met hers. "You know who I am?" he asked.

Biting her trembling lip, Emma nodded.

"Then you know I despise Team Rocket and everything they stand for. I promise I will do everything in my power to rescue your aunt and Pokémon. To do that, though, I need you to answer some questions. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Emma started to nod, then caught herself and said, "Yes," in a very soft voice.

"Excellent. Now, first: _why _did Team Rocket kidnap your aunt?"

"She lives here in town," Emma began, "and runs a bookshop; I help her with it. We have a lot of rare books on legendary Pokémon and Team Rocket showed up yesterday wanting to buy one, but Auntie said no, she doesn't deal with Pokémon thieves."

Paton's eyebrows rose, and he felt a surge of admiration for this aunt he had never met. It took guts to stand up to his sisters; they had a combination of cruelties that combined to break even the staunchest of spirits.

"They came back today with reinforcements," Emma continued in a small voice, "and caught Aunt Julia when she was stocking the back room and had her Dragonair in the other room in its Pokeball. They knocked her out, got Dragonair and the book and all of _my _Pokeballs, and shoved me into a shelf. I only have Pidgey because I had let it outside to stretch its wings. "

"But why take your aunt?" Paton asked, confused. "If they have the book, then they shouldn't need…" his voice trailed off. "It must need to be translated!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "That's the only explanation. Emma, I take it your Aunt can speak other languages?"

Emma nodded. "Oh yes."

"So then," Paton began to pace, "where would they take them? My sisters are always prepared for every eventuality, so where would they go…" He strode back and forth, lost in thought.

Charlie, meanwhile went to Emma and placed a hand on her shoulder. "See, Em?" he said confidently, "Uncle P will set everything right."

Paton suddenly stopped in his tracks. "I'll bet you anything they're hiding out at the old Bloor manor on the outskirts of town!" he exclaimed. "Some of my recent challengers have mentioned some unusual activity out that way, and I bet that's why."

"Right!" Charlie was all but vibrating with excitement. "Let's go!"

Quick as lightning, Paton reached out a hand and caught his nephew's shoulder. "Hold on, Charlie," he cautioned.

"You aren't leaving us behind!" the boy protested, chin jutting out defiantly.

"No," Paton agreed. "You are both trainers in your own rights. However," he added solemnly as the bright glow returned to Charlie's eyes, "I can and will stipulate that you do everything I say. If I deem the situation too dangerous, you _will _leave and alert the authorities—whom, since you came ot _me, _I assume disregarded you initially."

At Charlie's not he sighed and retrieved his coat, reaching to pluck a silver lightning bolt from inside an dinner pocket. "Foolish of them to ignore youth, he said, shaking his head. "Here." He offered the badge to Charlie, dropping the iridescent token into his nephew's tentatively outstretched palm. "Show them this should anything happen and they'll know you were with me."

Looking slightly awed, for no one had been given and Illuminations badge in nearly two years, Charlie carefully tucked the token inside his pack.

"And I expect that back, after all of this," Paton said with a smile in his eyes. "You'll have to win it fair and square in order to keep it.

Charlie grinned. "Yes, sir!"

Seriousness stole once more across Paton's features, and he flung his coat about his shoulders in a swift movement. "Now," he declared, "let's go remind my sisters _why _they fear me."

The trio made it to the estate in no time at all, keeping to the town's outskirts and travelling along the edge of the surrounding forest. Though dusk was falling, their way was lit by Paton's Jolteon, who strode along before them bristling with electricity—literally a walking light.

The mansion itself was quite intimidating to behold, a towering structure of three main stories but also in possession of three towers, ornate gothic architecture, and a twelve-foot steel grey cinderblock wall enclosing the grounds. Long abandoned by its original inhabitants, it was official a ruin and unofficially served as a well-known refuge for Team Rocket members.

"Right," said Charlie, biting his lip and staring up at the wall. "Now what?"

"Blocked so early, Charlie?" Paton asked, giving Emma a nod as she snickered involuntarily at the pun. "You have to learn to think creatively." Unclipping a Pokeball from his belt, he tossed it into the air, releasing his Marowak. "What?" he asked, noticing the other trainers' apparent confusion. "Just because I _specialize _in one type doesn't mean I can't have others as well." He grinned. "Marowak just loves to Dig, don't you?"

The Pokémon made a noise of assent and began burrowing under the wall, creating a tunnel just large enough for them to file through one by one. Emerging on the other side of the wall, Paton brushed a copious amount of dirt from his shoulders and surveyed his surroundings. Viewed up close, the manor was rather derelict, but this did nothing to take away from its grandeur; indeed, the chipped stone edifice and worn wrought iron only served to enhance its age and majesty.

Lights shone in one of the towers, a golden gleam against the evening sky. "Emma," Paton asked, keeping his voice hushed, "can your Pidgey see well enough in the dark to fly up there and take a look?"

"It can, Mr. Yewbeam," she affirmed, releasing it from its Pokeball. "Pidgey, fly up there and see if you can see Aunt Julia!" There were a few long moments of anxious silence as they awaited the Pokémon's return, the two youths fidgeting where they stood, Paton tall and still and silent. Finally the feathered figure returned, cheeping urgently. "Is she there?" Emma exclaimed, and the Flying Pokémon made a noise of assent.

"Is there anyone else with her?" Paton asked urgently. He did not fancy storming the tower only to be outnumbered by a barrage of Team Rocket grunts and their superiors. The Pokémon shook its head and Paton relaxed. "Excellent," he said, drawing the two younger trainers closer. "Here's what we're going to do…"

High up in the tower, Julia Ingledew sat on the hard concrete floor with her hands chained behind her trying not to think of how uncomfortable she was. "At least I'm not tied to a chair," she muttered ruefully, having experienced _that _situation much earlier on in her career as a trainer (courtesy of a prior run-in with the Rockets) and not enjoying it one bit. As it was, this wasn't much better, and the shackles were beginning to chafe her wrists. Between that, the hard stone floor, and the various bruises and lacerations serving as mementos of her abuse at Team Rocket's hands, she was rather unhappy on the whole.

They had tried "asking nicely" (their words, not hers) for a translation of the tome they had taken, but when that failed had resorted to much more primitive means of coercion. She had taken a bit of a beating at the hands of their Pokémon (and their hands in general), but as yet had not folded to their cruelty. Fidgeting, Julia tested the bounds of her restraints. They refused to budge, chain scraping loudly against the stone wall behind her. Relaxing before the noise summoned whoever stood on guard outside, Julia closed her eyes and inhaled.

Her biggest worry at the moment was not for herself, but rather for Emma. Knowing her neice had escaped and knowing that she was safe were two very different things; from eavesdropping on her captors, Julia knew that Emma was as of yet at large, and fervently hoped her neice was resourceful enough to continue to evade capture. It was much easier for her to resist Team Rocket's demands when they were not using the only family she had left as leverage.

A series of loud noises on the spiraling staircase had her napping to attention, ears straining for any sound that might forewarn her as to who or what approached. The heavy wooden door swung open with a mighty creak, and an incredibly tall man swept through, two smaller figures trailing in his wake.

Thought the man was no one Julia had ever met in person, she knew just as well as anyone else in town that this dark and intimidating (and _handsome_, her treacherous mind added) stranger was Paton Yewbeam, Roirue's one and only undefeated and remarkably reclusive gym leader. Eyes shifting to his two accomplices, Julia heaved a huge sigh of relief as she recognized both of them. "Emma!" she exclaimed. "I am so very glad you're safe!"

Emma ran to her aunt's side, looking horrified as she traced a purpling bruise along Julia's cheek. "What have they done to you, Auntie?"

"Oh, this is nothing," Julia brushed aside her niece's worry. "Very tame by Rocket standards." She gave Charlie a nod, for she was quite familiar with the boy who frequently lurked about her shop with her niece and their group of friends. "Charlie Bone!" she exclaimed with a small smile. "I might have known; whenever there's trouble, there you are at its heart." She shifted uncomfortable, shackles clicking. "I seem to recall that you have a Machoke," she hinted, quirking an eyebrow. "Perhaps you might do me the favor of getting me away from this wall?"

Charlie stared blankly at her for a moment until comprehension dawned in his eyes. "Oh, right! Machoke," he called, tossing a Pokeball in the air, "break Miss Ingledew's shackles!" The muscular Pokémon snapped through the thick chains like they were paper, freeing Julia from the wall; with careful precision, it broke the manacles apart so that her arms were no longer bound behind her back.

"Thank you," she said, nodding first to Pokémon then to trainer. "My arms were getting quite stiff."

"Those manacles still can't be comfortable," Paton said from where he stood watch by the door.

Jumping, for he was so quiet that she had quite forgotten that he was there, Julia gave the shackles still encircling her wrists an irritated frown. "No, they aren't," she agreed. "Still, I'm not chained to a wall anymore." She smiled crookedly. "Counts for something."

Shaking his head at her tenacity, Paton abandoned his post, indicating to Charlie with a sharp nod that he should take his place, and stepped over to her side. "May I?" he asked, nodding at her arms. At her noise of assent, he gently took one of her wrists in his hands, tracing the lock with one long finger. Reaching into an inside poscket of his coat, he withdrew a set of lockpicks and set to work on the cuff.

Julia's eyebrows shot skyward. "A man of many talents, I see," she said, wincing as the movement of the pick caused the metal to rub against her raw skin.

"I'm sorry," Paton apologized, empathy in his eyes. "They'll be off in just a moment." He tinkered away for a few minutes longer, Charlie and Emma peering anxiously down the darkened staircase, until with a soft click the manacles opened and fell away from her wrists.

"Thank you!" Julia exclaimed, relief evident in her eyes. She looked down to where he still held her hands, fingers curled around her wrists and soothing the chafed skin.

Burning a fiery red, Paton let go. "Ahem…" He looked away for a moment, then turned back to her and gave a slight bow. "I haven't introduced myself properly yet," he said, still a bit pink. "Forgive me. I'm Paton Yewbeam, and I see you already know my nephew Charlie. He brought Emma to my gym after everything transpired."

"I'm Julia Ingledew," she said, smiling at his sudden bashfulness. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mr. Yewbeam."

"Just Paton," he corrected with a shake of his head.

"Paton, then," she said, smile widening.

Standing there staring into her honeyed brown eyes, Paton thought he had never seen a more beautiful sight than the tall woman with the cascading chestnut hair standing before him. Coughing self-consciously, he broke their gaze. "Right, well…time to go?"

Feeling extremely daring, for she was typically never so forward but found herself inexplicably drawn to the man, Julia reached out and snagged his hand. "Time to go!" she agreed, drawing him toward the exit. "Oh!" she released him for a moment and darted back to grab her Pokémon. "Now let's get out of here!"

"Should we do anything about Team Rocket?" Charlie asked, looking perplexed by the sudden, passive turn of events. Adolescent boy that he was, he had understandably been looking forward to some sort of dramatic altercation—and it seemed he was to get his wish after all.

"And just where do you think you're going?" A tall woman with a long, steel grey braid appeared at the top of the stairs, flanked by a pair of young Rocket grunts.

"Ah, Grizelda," Paton stared down his nose, "how delightful."

She made a sharp motion with her hand and the two grunts stepped forward, each summoning a Golbat and a Machoke.

Rolling his eyes, Paton tossed a Pokeball in the air and brought out his Jolteon. "Jolteon, Thunder!" he commanded, and the room turned a brilliant white-blue as an immense bolt of electricity shot through, branching out with impeccable precision to strike each of the four Pokémon and their two trainers. They immediately keeled over, unconscious. "Now will you move?" he asked Grizelda, frowning. "You've done enough damage for one day.

Her answer was instantaneous. One moment she was by the door, the next she was rushing Paton, a Pokeball already in her fist.

He was ready for it, though, jumping aside as she sent out her Gengar and lunged for him.  
"Nice try, sister dear," he taunted. "Too slow!"

Without turning, she made a sharp motion and Gengar struck, its eyes glowing red and holding Paton immobile. "Now who's too slow?" she snarled.

"Uncle P!" Charlie exclaimed. He jumped forward and threw out a Pokeball. "Wartortle, come on out! Use Water Gun!" The Pokémon burst forth and immediately turned a torrent of water on the Gengar. Barely batting an eye, and keeping Paton locked in place, the Ghost Pokémon blinked, its eyes flashing red, and sent Charlie's Wartortle flying into the opposite wall. "No!" he cried, running over to his Pokémon's side. "Are you okay? Get up!"

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the rest, Julia had crept off to the side and sorted through her Pokeballs. Finding the two she sought, she opened it into the hallway, out of sight of those in the room. "Pigeot, she said softly, "when I give the word, Dragonair is going to use Dragon Rage. I want you to get Charlie and Emma out to safety. Take them back to the bookstore—actually, wait. Take them to Paton's gym. Dragonair, we're going to bring this infernal building down once and for all." She waited a breath and then nodded. "Okay, now!"

As one, the two Pokémon burst forth into the room, the great bird seizing Charlie and Emma in its claws and soaring out the open window into the night as Dragonair glowed a brilliant blue.

The walls began to shake, snapping Gengar from its trance and making Grizelda jerk her head around to stare at Julia. "What have you _done_?!" she howled. "You'll kill us all!"

"Highly unlikely," Paton drawled, breaking free of Gengar's hypnotic glare. "Just you, if we're lucky." He extended an arm to Julia as a great, jagged crack split the floor. "Coming, my dear?"

"Of course!" she replied, already sprinting down the stone stairway. "Dragonair, you know what to do!"

The Pokémon gave a great cry and the tower split apart, the heavy turrets crashing down to the ground below. They felt the building shake as the dragon's attack grew in might, and increased their speed, dashing through hallways until finally they burst through the front entrance.

"Over here!" Paton directed her to the front gate, not bothering with the stealth of their entry hole, and together they ran out into the night.

From high atop a nearby hill, they watched as the old building gave one final shudder and then collapsed in upon itself, sending a great cloud of rubble skyward. Not long after, Dragonair appeared, sailing through the air and looking quite pleased with itself. "Excellent job," Julia complemented, giving it a caress before returning it to its Pokeball. Looking up, she found Paton staring at her as though he had never seen her like. "What?"

"Do you make a habit of this?" he asked, dark eyebrows nearly touching his hair.

"What?" she queried. "Getting kidnapped by Team Rocket and helping to bring down one of their fortresses in a great cloud of debris?" She gave him a small, mischievous smile. "Not in an incredibly long time."

"Don't be so modest," Paton said, giving her a true grin. "That building was all you." Taking her hand in his, he laced their fingers together. "I know we just met," he began tentatively, "but I find you a wonderfully intelligent, breathtaking woman, and would very much like to take you to dinner. This makes for one hell of a first date, and optimistically the next will have far fewer explosions, but..." He trailed off and looked at her hopefully form under long lashes.

"When you put it that way," she said radiantly, "what else could I say but yes?"


End file.
